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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140328">Hey Tomorrow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupinlover/pseuds/remuslupinlover'>remuslupinlover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the End (The Last of Us) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last of Us</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cause I Don't Want Joel to Die, Comfort, Exploring Joel's House, F/M, Feels, Mild Language, Post-Apocalypse, Slow Burn, pinning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupinlover/pseuds/remuslupinlover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam reflects on missing her partner Joel in a post-apocalyptic Jackson. An exploration of Joel's house and the companion he shares it with to the tune of 70's soft rock icon Jim Croce.<br/>.<br/>Cause I've been wasted and I've over-tasted <br/>All the things that life gave to me<br/>And I've been trusted, abused and busted<br/>And I've been taken by those close to me-<br/>but I'll have a new day if she'll have me.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joel (The Last of Us)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the End (The Last of Us) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hey Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Replaying the scene of Ellie going into Joel's house after...and the way she smells his jacket really drop kicks me in the chest. After re-reading the last two parts in this series I feel like my stuff gets easily overwhelmed with exposition and feels kind of clunky so I wanted to try and format different in hopes it flows better. Hope you guys enjoy, feel free to leave your thoughts down below!</p><p>Just wanted to say I did do my research; I know canon TLOU has the virus take over in 2013, the same year the Vine app is released. But I'm going against canon and referencing Tik Tok even though it didn't come out until 2016. Also I did the math and to make Sam old enough to have solid memories of Before, she'd need to be at least 30. While she's not close to Old Man Joel in his 50's, I like the idea of a slight age gap but anything younger derails this story line. Don't sue me okay?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning breeze drifts across the blooming back yard of the brick house. Sleeves and loose pant legs lift with the wind and threaten to escape from their pins littering the strung clothing line. Sam watches the sun peek over the top of the trees surrounding the Jackson neighborhood before adding a tattered sock to the line.</p><p>It's therapeutic and somewhat ironic, she thinks. The now normal routine in their post-apocalyptic lives of using a wash board and clothes line to do laundry just as their ancestors did centuries ago. History doesn't repeat itself, but it echos. </p><p>She's thankful for another form of normalcy in these times of limited resources. Soap. Homemade by a local mother in Jackson and traded for a few days of child sitting services. All the screaming and crying was worth it when she pressed one of the clean shirts to her face, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and citrus. She added the shirt to the line with a pin on each shoulder. </p><p>Bird's sing from the telephone lines above her as she scoops the laundry basket up, moving along the clothing line with a hum. She picks up another shirt, one of Joel's plain cotton tees. This one is special though.</p><p>
  <em>"Oh yeah, definitely fixable. No worries, shouldn't take more than a few minutes." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're a lifesaver." He received a sharp look over her shoulder but the snort she adds erases any hint of intimidation. </em>
</p><p><em>"It's just a torn pocket. Come back for dinner later and I'll have it finished for you." She didn't notice the pink tint in his cheeks with her back turned to him. But he didn't see the way she bites her bottom lip at the idea of spending more alone time with Joel.</em> </p><p>Her thumb brushes along the front pocket patch, the tight row of stitches holding strong. He had laughed when he saw she'd used a light green thread that stood out against the black shirt. Not that she could help it much, sewing kits were an uncommon find and thread could be limited. When he questioned her color choice, she hadn't lied either. </p><p>
  <em>"Matches your eyes, Texas." </em>
</p><p>Sam smiled, lifting the worn shirt to her face and inhaling the fragrance of soap and something specific to the salt and pepper haired man who made her heart beat faster. She held the shirt up against the clothing line, looking away to grab a pin from the basket. When she turns back she bites back her startled yelp. </p><p>Joel apologizes with a sheepish smile in front of her, already tugging the shirt from her fingers and holding it as she clips the pin in place. "Mornin'." He starts after clearing his throat softly. When the second pin secures the shirt he dips below the line to stand beside the laundry basket next to her. Looking up at Joel surrounded by a blue sky and fresh billowing clothes, Sam finds it easy to slip into the sense of domestic bliss. </p><p>"Sorry if I woke you." She replies. "Wanted to get the laundry done before they shut the water off for the week."</p><p>Jackson had managed to revive a lot of household commodities nearly three decades since the world started burning. After bringing the power station back to life, electricity lit up the town much to everyone's delight. The water and sanitation plant had been <em>a lot</em> harder. Weeks of back-breaking work and reading manual after manual to create a stabilized water filter and pump. Thankfully there were Jackson citizens who had backgrounds in city maintenance in the Before years. With the many minds and hands working together, plumbing quickly followed and the town began to feel like a place people could settle down in. </p><p>This meant they could supply running water to the town's houses although limitations had to be set. Showers and other large uses of water like filling up the wash tubs, were only allowed every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. When the water was off, any other washing or water gathering had to be done the old fashion way, in the lake or nearby rivers. Many of the town inhabitants used rain barrels and jugs to sustain their own homes on the off days. It had become the town ritual to line up on Friday with cartons by the old water pump, taking turns filling their canteens for their weekend supply. Then like a line of ants marching home with miscellaneous jugs and buckets along the winding street. </p><p>Joel's head turned to her with a smile before glancing back and pinning a long sleeve shirt to the line in front of him. "Nah, I was up already. Tommy radioed me at the damn crack o' dawn." The second pin was released with a huff, his hand stopping to scratch at the graying whiskers on his chin before he's reaching into the laundry basket for more.</p><p>"What did Tommy Boy have to say at the crack o'dawn?" she asked, digging out the matching tattered sock from the basket. </p><p>"Uh...he...uh..." His awkward pausing makes her look up and nearly fall over laughing at the sight of Joel's blistering red face. He's looking anywhere but her, hands fumbling with the clothes pins as he holds a clean pair of her underwear against the line. <em>Thank god they're one of the better pairs</em>, she thinks, her own cheeks feeling warm just looking at the heated blush on Joel's cheeks. </p><p>Then she swears her heart skips a beat when she reaches her hand into the bottom of the basket only for Joel's hand to reach in at the same time. Their fingers brush, rough skin and callouses and bruised knuckles but equally as gentle and inviting. Both of their cheeks blossom pink again. </p><p>"Well?" She says tugging at the sheet, Joel grabbing the opposite corners and they stand in unison, stretching the fabric apart.</p><p>"Said he and the boys are going on a supply run tomorrow." She bats her eyes at him from behind the sheet, watching him stand there quietly, the smirk on his face emphasizing the cute wrinkles around his eyes. They folded the sheet in half, hands meeting again as he took her corners. Joel's smile falters. "Tommy asked me to come." </p><p>The admission guts her, and she turns away quickly to bend down and riffle through the laundry basket, pretending to search for more pins. He knew what tomorrow meant to her. </p><p>"I'm sorry." He says faintly when she turns back after having put on an invisible mask to hide the upset look in her eyes. "He said he needs an extra set of hands. I-"</p><p>"It's okay, Joel." Sam throws him a brief smile as she steps closer. She was accustomed to the teasing game they had long played with each other. Their relationship had always felt like a push and pull. Give a little here, take a little there. It was mutual and comfortable. But over time a feeling had begun to brew in the pit of Sam's stomach, an ache for more. </p><p>Feeling brave, Sam dips under his arm, trapping herself in the space between Joel and the clean sheet he's holding. With her back to his chest, she tries to calm her shaking hands as she clips the right corner of the sheet to the line. She hears him swallow behind her, a slight warmth radiating off him being so close. </p><p>"When will you get back?" She silently curses the way her voice hikes at the end. <em>Damn nerves.</em> </p><p>"Couple days I s'ppose. No more than five." His presence behind her does little to settle the fluttering in her chest and she's putting all her focus into not letting her fingers tremble as she attaches another pin in the middle. </p><p>He exhales and she shivers at his warm breath against the back of her neck when the final pin is placed, completing one of her morning chores. They separate from each other silently, Sam picking the now empty laundry basket up and turning to the older man a few feet away. He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish look. </p><p>"I-I know we'd planned on dinner t'morrow night for your birthday." He says to his shoes before glancing up at her with his big hazel eyes. The way his eyebrows are furrowed make his deep eyes look sad as he stands with his back against the rising sun. </p><p>"Don't even worry about it." She waves a hand in front of them as they begin walking towards the back patio. "We can have Ellie over when you get back and watch a movie or something. How 'bout <em>Ferris Buller's Day Off</em>? Or <em>The Goonies</em>? I bet Ellie would get a kick out of that one." </p><p>The silence from her companion makes her look over her shoulder, watching Joel push his hands in his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Ya know, I-" he pauses, swallowing quickly. "I was kind of lookin' forward to...just the two of us. Nothing against the kiddo." He finishes with an self-conscious smile.</p><p>Sam returns the smile before gently bumping against his shoulder, coercing him to start moving back inside the house. If their shoulders brush a few more times before they reach the back door, well Sam just considered that the comfortable nearness of her companion. Just like tomorrow night's birthday dinner would have been. Two companions sharing a comfortable nearness.</p><p><em>Just the two of us</em>. </p><p>* * * </p><p>Ellie promises to provide Sam company in the absence of Joel the following night. And while a part of her wants to wallow away in her feelings she couldn't deny the pleading teenager for long. </p><p>Sam cooks dinner for them, a simple pasta dish with tomato sauce made with ingredients from the local farm and her own herb garden. Joel had scolded her when she brought the pasta maker back to town after a long scouting trip.</p><p>
  <em>"When ya ever gonna use that thing?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Special occasions." She scoffed back at him with sparkling eyes. </em>
</p><p>Her 35th birthday was indeed a special occasion and Sam had pulled out the pasta maker with a delighted Ellie at her side, bouncing to help pull the homemade dough through the crank to produce long thin noodles. A luxurious spread of homemade bread and butter, gifted to her from a friendly neighbor, sits half eaten in the middle of the table.</p><p>They share stories as they eat, laughing and recalling the good memories they had from traveling and what Sam remembers from Before. </p><p>"I promise, it was a thing! People zippin' around on their Heelys."</p><p>"Heelys!" Ellie wheezes, slapping a hand against the wooden table. "Oh my god, and what was that...app called? Tick Tock?"</p><p>The loud groan emitted from Sam combined with her exaggerated eye roll makes them both burst out laughing. </p><p>It's easy to feel at home with Ellie in the comfort of the cozy house with a warm meal in her stomach. She's not upset he was on patrol. She genuinely wasn't that upset he was missing her birthday either. She just missed <em>him</em>.</p><p>Dinner with Ellie was truly enjoyable and she hadn't laughed so hard in weeks. But if her eyes occasionally glance over to the empty third chair at the table well...it was getting late and she was an old lady now after all. </p><p>It happened twice more before she caught Ellie staring at her with a curious expression on the younger girl's face. Thankfully the teenager kept those thoughts to herself and even stood to help clear the table as the string lights in the center of town flicker on outside the kitchen window. </p><p>She hugs Ellie to her tightly before the teen bounds off the porch, jumping the last step with a wave goodbye. She continues to stand under the faint glowing porch light and watch the girl's figure wind down the street before disappearing around the stone gates towards town. Sam stands quietly, leaning into the railing and listening to the crickets. The starry night above is dark blue and as she gazes into the sky her minds drifts once again to the man she shares her home with. </p><p><em>Days pass slower without him.</em> Sam thinks to herself sadly, turning and making her way back inside, finger hesitating above the switch to turn off the porch light. <em>He's not coming back tonight.</em> She flicks the switch off with a sigh before locking the door, enclosing herself in the dimly lit entry way.  </p><p>The brick abode had become known as her and Joel's house, a shared space between the two partners, fairly quickly after they arrived in Jackson. She remembers sharing quarters with Maria when they first settled into town, trying to give Joel and Ellie space after months of being their only companion. Despite her intrusive thoughts, the trio seemed to happily stick together, spending many nights around the small dinner table playing board games or crowded onto the long sofa in the living room watching movies.</p><p>When Ellie would call it a night, opting to walk back to the youth quarters, it was easy for Sam to make the excuse to leave too and walk her back. Then Joel began bribing her with drinks during dinner, giving her new excuses to stay longer to sober up or occasionally sleep it off in the spare bedroom. Eventually the drinks turned into regular talks in the woodworking room, late nights without Ellie, spent in each other company until one of them would notice how late it was. </p><p>
  <em>"Shit, is that really the time?" She grumbled, stretching like a cat from her curled position in the recliner. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Why don't ya just stay? It's pretty late and all." His voice pulled her from her book, glancing up at him across the room. His back was turned to her, hands deftly chiseling a small model horse on the table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'd like that." Her reply stills his hands and she watches his broad back as he breathes in. The look Joel sends her over his shoulder makes her want to stay forever.</em>
</p><p>It was then referred to as Joel and Sam's house. They had separate rooms, not that she felt she owed anyone an explanation. And while she spent many of her nights in her own room, it wasn't uncommon for him to find her curled up under his comforter with one of her many books.</p><p><em>"The lighting's better in your room."</em> Although they both knew she didn't even have a lamp in her bedroom, and never seemed in a hurry to remedy it.</p><p>Sam walks into the kitchen, staring at the dirty dishes left over from their pasta dinner soaking in the sink. Her eyes drift to the small ceramic mug next to the drying rack and her hand reaches out before she can process. Joel's owl mug, the one Ellie had given him last Christmas with a small baggie of finely ground beans. </p><p>
  <em>"Is this-?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Coffee!" </em>
</p><p>Sam smiles at the recalled memory of Joel's wide eyes and Ellie's complaints about the bear hug that followed. Her fingers brush over the design of branches and the brown rim before setting the cup back down on the counter with a click. He must have left it there that morning before leaving with Tommy. She blinks at the mug again and decides the dishes can wait till tomorrow.</p><p>Moving out of the kitchen, she checks to make sure the back door is locked before rounding the banister and climbing the stairs to the second floor. The door to the woodworking room or as Sam affectionately calls it, <em>The Shop</em>, is half way closed. She peeks in just to get a waft of the sawdust and wood varnish, smells she has come to associate with the graying haired man she shares her space with.</p><p>Finally she makes her way into Joel's bedroom, pushing the door open wider with a soft creak. The partially made bed on the left is calling out to her tired body but she past it to the portable record player instead. The small crate of vinyls sits beside the player, and her fingers trail the spine of the sleeves before picking one of her favorites. She pulls the black record from the sleeve, gently setting it on the player and moving the needle over the grooves. </p><p>Joel often joked that she had an old soul because of the things she appreciated from Before, including her taste in music. </p><p>There's a soft crackle as the needle bounces on the spinning record and then the light strumming of an acoustic guitar fills the room. </p><p>
  <em>Hey tomorrow, where are you goin' </em><br/>
<em>Do you have some room for me </em><br/>
<em>'Cause night is fallin' and the dawn is callin' </em><br/>
<em>I'll have a new day if she'll have me</em>
</p><p>Sam stands in front of the player, eyes closed and letting the gentle melody wash over her. Lord, she had missed hearing music on the regular. </p><p>
  <em>Hey tomorrow, I can't show you nothin' </em><br/>
<em>You've seen it all pass by your door </em><br/>
<em>So many times I said I been changin' </em><br/>
<em>Then slipped into patterns of what happened before</em>
</p><p>She steps away from the spinning record with a content sigh. When she moves to sit on the bed, her eyes drift over to the open closet door in the corner. Joel's beige winter coat stands out on its hanger, sleeves dangling half in the shadows. Her feet carry her across the wooden floor silently.  </p><p>
  <em>'Cause I've been wasted and I've over-tasted <br/>
</em>
  <em>All the things that life gave to me </em><br/>
<em>And I've been trusted, abused and busted </em><br/>
<em>And I've been taken by those close to me</em>
</p><p>His backpack, belts, extra shoes, and even a cowboy hat rest neatly along the closet shelves. A small assortment of jackets and coats hang in the back. But his short sleeve shirts, fresh from yesterday's washing, hang in the front. Her fingers brush along the worn and tattered fabrics, seeking out one in particular. When she doesn't find it, her frown slowly turns upwards when she realizes...he must be wearing it. </p><p>
  <em>Hey tomorrow you've gotta believe that </em><br/>
<em>I'm through wastin' what's left of me </em><br/>
<em>'Cause night is fallin' and the dawn is callin' </em><br/>
<em>I'll have a new day if she'll have me</em>
</p><p>She pulls the nearest shirt off its hanger, pressing the cloth to her face and breathing in the citrus, lavender, and wood smell in a moment of stillness. Finally she exits the closet, walking back towards the bed. She pulls the shirt she's wearing off and quickly undoes her bra before tossing Joel's worn cotton shirt over her head. Tugging the shirt down, she unbuckles her belt, popping the button of her jeans open before slipping the pants down her legs, leaving her in a pair of black briefs and socks. </p><p>
  <em>Hey tomorrow, where are you goin'<br/>
Do you have some room for me </em><br/>
<em>'Cause night is fallin' and the dawn is callin' </em><br/>
<em>I'll have a new day if she'll have me </em><br/>
<em>I'll have a new day if she'll have me</em>
</p><p>Dumping all her worn clothes in the nearby desk chair, Sam crawls into the previously occupied space on the bed. The sheets are cold at first and she tugs the dark comforter up around her shoulders while nuzzling her face into the cool pillow under her. The room lay in a stillness, only the faint crackle of the record player before the needle reaches the next song. Sam closes her eyes and breathes in, waiting for tomorrow to come. </p>
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